


Cupid's Match

by ElfGrove



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cupid AU, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Sheithlentines 2019, Soulmates, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, cupid Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 08:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfGrove/pseuds/ElfGrove
Summary: Shiro has been Cupid for a long time, he loves his work. Loves helping people find thier match. Until Keith. Keith is Shiro's next target, but Shiro is immediately drawn to him and disguises himself as a human to woo him. He knows it's wrong; Keith's fated match is out there somewhere. He was supposed to fall for someone else.What Shiro doesn't know is that he is Keith's fated match.





	Cupid's Match

**Author's Note:**

> A fanfic to go with applepieken's Valetine's Sheith art.  
> https://twitter.com/applepieken/status/1096316488036737024

Shiro laughs, light and airy, as he brushes a branch aside with one wing to get a clear view of the fumbling pair by the fountain. The bright blush high on each woman’s cheeks make it clear they hardly need the help to fall in love, but a little push in the right direction won’t go amiss.

That was so much of what he does really, a final push in the right direction for souls already drifting towards one another. There were exceptions of course, but there always were with anything.

Mostly, he ensures folk looking for love end up with their match.

Making sure true love and “happily ever after”s happen.

The arrow flies from his bow, finding his target as it always does.

The woman with blue hair squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath before darting forward to capture the lips of the tan brunette in a brief, chaste kiss. She has only just broken the kiss, eyes darting down uncertainly when her match catches her cheeks in both hands and pull them back together.

Shiro shrugs his quiver higher against his shoulder and turns with a satisfied smile at a job well done.

He pulls on that inner sense, that drag of a nearly invisible red string that will tug him towards his next targets. The next match to be made.

He follows the feeling to another street, a little block festival full of people and stalls selling food and various crafts. People mill together: laughing and talking, fingers brushing together then intertwining, knuckles caressing cheeks, kissing, all underneath shades or red, pink, and white while love songs played over speakers. 

_ It is Valentine’s Day after all. His day. _

He finds his target. A small crowd of friends stand together, debating what booth to go to next with loud laughter and teasing remarks. Even from his spot in the shadow of an awning, Shiro can feel the warmth of emotions and fondness passing between the entire group even as rude words are exchanged in boisterous tones.

He knocks an arrow to his bow before he's even certain just who amongst this tight knit company will be the recipient. Friends to lovers was always such a good story. He likes these kinds of matches. He allows the joy of knowing what they had coming spill into his smile as he draws the string and shifts, letting the arrow find it’s mark.

His vision narrows to his target, a dark-haired man with eyes that seem purple under the warm sunlight tinted from the Valentine’s decorations. As Shiro watches, he laughs, too quiet to be heard amongst his loud friends, ducking his head as he tucks hair behind his ears, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Not glancing up in hopes of being noticed, just a little extra attention, by one of the people he stood with. His smile is like his laugh, quiet and self-reflecting and when those purple eyes dart up, he seems to be looking directly at Shiro, nothing else in his line of sight but the direct line to the arrow and Shiro’s eyes.

His breath hitches and his wings shiver involuntarily. He lowers the bow, feeling it as his grin slip as he stares in breathless slack-jawed wonder at the human man, for this first time in his long existence, unwilling to fire.

_ He feels struck. _

Whomever the man’s match is, amongst those loud and warm friends, Shiro denies it. He can’t accept it. Those eyes weren’t looking for love amongst those he already knew. That quiet and warm visage needs someone who can understand and share the quiet, not one who would drown his quiet intensity under an avalanche of sound, no matter how well intentioned.

That silent warmth deserves a match that could enjoy the quiet with him, that could move with him and respond to words unspoken. He deserves someone who matches him, and Shiro refuses to accept that his true match was in that crowd. _It feels wrong._

Purple eyes still gaze across the empty space to the shadow where Shiro stands, refusing to do what had been his sole purpose for centuries.

_ Can he see him? _

No one has seen him in a mortal age, and the man doesn’t have the look of a human seeing a man with wings carrying a blood red bow fit for war in a time where men with weapons carry guns. It was impossible he was seen, but suddenly, he wants to be.

_ He wants to be seen. To be known. _

_ He wants… _

Shiro drags power from the air, disguising his bow, shifting it into a red cell phone and his comfortable tunic into black jeans and a leather jacket with a simple white tee. He steps out of the shadow as his disguise settles in, Shiro -- Cupid, as a mortal human man stepping off the curb into the bustle of a simple, mortal Valentine’s street festival.

Purple eyes focus, widen, and cheeks go scarlet.

The man is definitely looking directly at him now.

Shiro feels his smile return, but it's different from before. Not the joyful, broad grin of doing his work and doing it well, but an uptick of one corner of his lips, warm and knowing -- and proprietary.

He crosses the distance, putting himself directly in front of the man who has arrested his attention so thoroughly, “Hello.”

Purple eyes, and they truly were purple, not just a trick of the light, trace the lines of his face, cheeks still blushing attractively as he softly returns the greeting, “Hey.”

“My name is Shiro.”

“Keith.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Keith.”

“Yes. Hello. Excuse you,” One of Keith’s friends pipes in, obviously irritated. “Did you need something?”

Shiro feels the laugh threatening to spill into his voice. _Does he need something? He’d never needed anything he did not already have until this moment,_ “Just to meet Keith.”

The blush on Keith's cheeks lessens, and he turns to his friend, "What's your problem, Lance?"

"My problem, buddy, is we are doing Palentines and you are over here getting your groove on with some random silver fox! It's PAL-EN-TINES, as in single buddies day out!"

Another friend who is clearly used to defusing tensions between the two wheedles, "Lance."

Shiro raises an eyebrow, appraising the way they look at each other, gauging if Lance is the match he is interrupting instead of realizing. Both men bristle at each other like wet cats.

_ No. There isn't a love waiting to blossom there. A prickly but solid friendship, but not love. _

Keith's eyes narrow, shifting between the tan man and another friend, a woman with dark skin and hair as pale as Shiro's own. And there it is, Lance's match. He wants to laugh as Keith sighs, dropping the argument and rolling his eyes. "Palentine's" must be at least half excuse for Lance to spend the romantic day with his match without taking the leap of asking her. It's funny, and Keith isn't exposing him on it, despite the irritation.

Keith is shepherding his friend's love, just a little. Shiro feels all the more entranced by him for it.

"We are kind of doing a friend thing today," Keith looks back up to him, fingers massaging the back of his neck and blush returning. "So, I can't. Uh, not that you were..."

"I'm interrupting," Shiro offers warmly. "My apologies, but I was just drawn to you. Clearly, you have plans today, but perhaps I could convince you to make plans with me for another time?"

"Plans?" Keith hedges uncertainly, "I--"

"To be clear," Shiro smiles wider, leaning slightly further in to Keith's space. "I am asking to take you on a date. If you're willing."

There are excited noises from Keith's friends, but Shiro ignores them in favor of watching the emotions flit across Keith's face. He had been ready to give Shiro an out, to give himself one, to assume this was anything but exactly what it was. He assumes people aren't going to be interested in him that way, and Shiro can't imagine why.  _ After all, he's caught the eye of the current god of love. _

"Sure," Keith breathes after a long moment. "So, do we exchange numbers or?"

"I think that works." Shiro bites his bottom lip as Keith fumbles for his phone and captures one long-fingered hand in his own before Keith can second guess himself. Producing a pen from midair behind his back, he quickly writes a number that will reach him over Keith's pulse point, pressing a quick kiss over the racing heartbeat beneath his skin before releasing it. "There. Call or text me whenever you're free."

He waits for Keith's nod before losing himself in the crowd, turning a corner and releasing the power that gave him a human guise. For the first time in his long memory, Shiro doesn't care who someone’s match is because he wants them. _He hasn't ever wanted someone for himself like this._

 

* * *

 

He starts to feel guilty as it gets into the fifth hour of exchanging texts with Keith.

_ Keith is wonderful. _

He's smitten. 

_ He's never felt this way, but... _

Keith is wonderful and he deserves to have his fated match. If he wants them.

But then his screen pings again. Keith is going to sleep, has work in the morning, but he wishes Shiro sweet dreams and after repeating dots that go on too long for Shiro's poor heart a tentative question appears, posed with the proper punctuation and capitalization that had slipped away as they had gotten comfortable conversing, "Did you still want to go on a date?"

_ Keith's match is a fool if they're waiting for an arrow to give them the courage to pursue him.  _

Shiro responds, "MORE. THAN. ANYTHING."

He suggests a time and date, and Keith agrees to meet him.

_ It's a date. _

 

* * *

 

 

_ The date's going well. _

Keith is everything he thought when he first saw him. Quiet but intense and passionate. Softer than the hard lines of furrowed brows and few words might suggest to others.

Shiro, god of passionate love, managed to fumble a few times and rather than be put off at anything less than perfection, Keith moved closer in response to the mistakes, all small smiles and encouraging words.

Shiro only feels more drawn to him by the second.

The date ends at a dessert shop, coffee and a slice of cake shared between them.

They're getting ready to part at the intersection, headed different ways "home", even though the truth is that Shiro doesn't have a car to walk to.

Keith lets his hand slip out of Shiro's and smiles up at him as he tucks a lock of hair behind one ear, looking just as he did when Shiro had seen him down the sights of his bow.

Yet again, Shiro feels struck. If he didn't know it to be impossible, he'd think he'd been hit by one of his own arrows.

"I'll text you when I get home."

Shiro brushes his knuckles along the line of Keith's cheekbone before letting his fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, tipping his face up as he leans down to press a kiss to lips he's been aching for all night. He's careful, chaste about it. He's already crossing lines, pursuing a man he was meant to pierce with one of his own arrows.

_ He wants this. Wants Keith, and most importantly perhaps, wants Keith to want him back. _

He takes a shuddering breath inches from Keith's lips, eyes still closed.

It's so little, nothing by the standards of a god of passion, and yet he feels shaken to his very core by the simplest of kisses. Because it's Keith, and something about that man lights a fire in him, just by being.

Part of him hates whomever Keith's true match is, wherever they are.

_ How can they feel even half as much for Keith as Shiro does? _

But maybe that's not the point, not what Shiro feels for Keith, but what Keith feels. Maybe that passion isn't returned.

Keith sighs out his name and hands fist into the collar of his jacket, pulling Shiro back down for a second kiss.  _ Deeper. More. _

Keith tilts his head and licks his way into Shiro's mouth, pressing himself closer as if he can't get enough either.

Shiro can't even make himself take the moment to smile. One hand slips down, enveloping Keith's waist, pulling him closer while the other hand threads through night sky hair, desperate to take everything Keith is willing to yield to him.

_ If he can't have him forever, he'll take everything he can get for now. _

They part for breath and Keith smiles up at him, mischief in his eyes, "See me home safely?"

As though Shiro would deny him anything.

 

* * *

Shiro shifts in the bed, pulling Keith closer, brushing fingers through the long hair at the back of his neck while reveling in the simple joy of being here.  _ With him. _

It should be silly. His fellow gods would remind him that he could have anyone he wanted, and he's certainly fallen into bed with mortals before.

The difference is there though. He doesn't just want Keith the way he's wanted a pretty mortal before. Before was for the fun of it. For mutual pleasure. And while this certainly had been that, the difference was that he had no desire to get up and leave now. He actively loathed the idea that he would need to get up and eventually not return to Keith's side.

Keith had been the one to suggest this, to pull him into bed.

He couldn't possibly say no. He wanted it too.

Now that it has happened though, he fears Keith will be done with him. Ready to move on to his true match. Never knowing the fun fling had been the god of passionate love, hopelessly dreaming of something more permanent.

Keith stretches and sleepy purple eyes crack open to meet Shiro's, "Is everything okay?"

Shiro smiles softly and gives a non-committal hum, brushing strands of hair back from Keith's face.

Eyebrows furrow in concern, and Keith's voice is carefully even, "Do you need to go?"

It takes godly restraint to keep his voice light, "Do you want me to?"

"This was too fast," Keith ducks his head, breaking eye contact. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this. The date was wonderful and you're gorgeous and I don't usually..." His voice falters, "I don't just do this. Casually. I don't know what to do next."

"Keith," Shiro brushes fingers through his hair, trying to sooth frazzled nerves. "I don't want to leave. You're wonderful, and I want to be here with you as long as you'll allow me."

"You're sure?"

He presses a kiss to Keith's forehead, "Very certain."

"Do you, usually?"

"I've had sex with many people, and it has been casual in the past, yes." Shiro moves, levering himself up to press a kiss to the corner of Keith's mouth and then look down at him fondly from a propped elbow. "I have not wished to stay simply because I wanted more time with a person before. Not just more sex. More of your time, Keith. More of you."

"Do you think you'll change your mind?"

"I know hearts very well," Shiro chuckles fondly. "Mine is not likely to change in this lifetime."

"That's pretty serious for one date."

"I know."

"Should I trust you?"

"I am happy to spend as long as I need to, convincing you."

Keith laughs, propping himself up to kiss Shiro again, slow and comfortable. When their lips part, he chuckles again, smiling, "I think I might let you do that."

"Excellent."

 

* * *

Twelve months later, he's making coffee for Keith in his own kitchen while the man still sleeps on the king-sized bed in the next room.

He's concocted an entire mortal life for himself. A black and silver motorcycle with two helmets. An apartment with furniture, a full refrigerator, and a closet full of non-conjured clothes. A plush bank account filled with money collected over his years of being a god. A marriage counseling practice with an office, and what had started as something entirely fake now has a handful of real clients. 

He still takes out his bow and arrows as needed. He'd helpfully nudged Lance and Allura together as well as dozens of other matches he was drawn to. He's considering giving Hunk a little supernatural push towards Shay.

_ He likes Keith's friends. Their friends. _

He’s gotten to know Keith beyond the initial attraction. Keith, the experimental pilot, who flies cutting edge jets and tests new engines. Keith who is inexorably drawn to the sky, the stars. In love with the Heavens.

_If only he knew the Heavens returned the sentiment._

Keith also loves animals, volunteering at the local animal shelters regularly, something half of his friends don’t know about. Shiro had been honored when Keith had invited him along and introduced him to a particular hard case dog he was fond of. He’d learned about Keith’s childhood as an orphan and fear of abandonment.

Everything Shiro learned made him want to keep Keith closer and stay with him longer. He wants to make a life with him. To make long term plans together. He isn’t certain he could afford to do that to Keith. Or to himself.

Wherever Keith's true match is, he hasn't been drawn to aim his bow at Keith again since that first day. He prays he never is.

_ He is... happy. _

A simple happiness he had never expected to find in his entire existence.

He's avoided telling Keith any lies. He's given him so many half-truths though. Who would believe they've captured the heart of a god? Certainly not the man who had actually done so, and still expresses surprise sometimes that he could be someone's anchor when he has spent so long without one himself.

Shiro isn't expecting it when Coran appears, sitting on the counter between the microwave and the rice cooker.

He blinks, glancing back to the bedroom door to ensure Keith is still asleep before squaring his shoulders and raising an eyebrow at the elder god, "Good Morning Coran."

"Good morning, my boy. How are things?"

"Well."

Keith might be rubbing off on him, but he is worried what Coran being here, now, might mean. It makes him terse.

Coran nods to himself, stroking his mustache thoughtfully, "So I see."

"Did you need something, or I should pour you a cup of coffee?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling warmly, "I came to pick up your bow and arrows, Shiro."

He freezes, mug halfway to his lips, "What?"

"You've fallen in love," Coran says, as if it explains everything.

"The god of love is fired for falling in love himself?" He feels his teeth clench, "Is this because I didn't search out Keith's true match? Didn't make it right after I hesitated? Because I want him for myself?"

"Shiro..."

"I didn't force him. I never fired an arrow at him. He loves me. He loves me of his own accord, and I will stay with him for as long as he'll have me."

"Shiro, my boy, I know." Coran drops from the counter, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. "This is the way of things. Love gods will eventually find their true match, and it would be cruel to even risk separating you after you've found each other."

Shiro feels his heart leap into his throat, "I'm his match?"

"Yes. Stay with him. Live your lives together. There is a new god waiting to take on the duties. I've only come for your tools."

Shiro lets out a deep breath, eyes searching Coran's, "I'll be mortal?"

"It would be cruel to separate you after you have given so many others their matches." Coran raises an eyebrow, "Are you unwilling to be mortal?"

"For him?" Shiro chuckles, shaking his head, "I wouldn't regret it even if I died tomorrow."

"Let's not go that far," Coran smiles. "I don't want his heart broken any more than I want yours to be. Now, go bring me your tools."

Shiro turns, setting his mug on the counter, intending to go to the closet where his bow and arrows waited. He freezes when he finds Keith standing in the bedroom doorway, staring.

"Keith," Shiro's heart clenches. "How long have you been..."

"Most of it," Keith drags a hand through unruly hair. "I think."

"I..."

"You're a god?"

"Yes." Shiro glances at Coran, "Was one."

"The god of love? Like Cupid?"

"Yes." He starts to cross the space to Keith, each step hesitant, suddenly afraid. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before. I..."

He catches Keith in his arms as the smaller man starts to storm across the kitchen, his blazing eyes focused on Coran, not Shiro, "You can't take it away from him!"

Shiro holds him, not letting him get closer to the king of the gods. Coran is kind, but even he has limits to what he'll indulge. Shiro isn't willing to see Keith find that limit, "Keith!"

"Don't make him mortal! You can't let him die!"

Coran smirks mischievously, "Oh? Do you not want him? If that's the case, Shiro is very good at his job, it would save me the trouble of training up a new god. I could take him back, if you don't want him anymore, that is."

Shiro’s chest contracts painfully. Keith is his match. Keith doesn’t want him. Of course not, finding out Shiro isn’t who he thought he was. Miracle of all miracles, Keith might be his match, but he’d never really had a chance of keeping this.

"I..." Keith glances up at Shiro, eyes panicked, then back to Coran, "Of course I want him."

Shiro’s fingers shudder against Keith’s side where he still hold him away from Coran.

"You both want each other. I hardly see the problem."

"I don't want him to die," Keith sounds heartbroken. "Not for me."

Shiro drops his head against Keith’s shoulder, whispering into his skin, “Keith.”

"He's not going to die tomorrow," Coran waves a hand casually. "You'll have a nice long, mortal life together."

"I," Keith grips Shiro's arms where they wrap around him, glaring at the floor. "Don't punish him because of me. I'm not worth it."

"You misunderstand." Coran speaks gently, "It's not a punishment."

"Keith, I want to stay with you for as long as we can have." Shiro lifts his head to meet Keith’s eyes, brushing his messy bangs back from his forehead, "I've lived for a very long time already, and now, I don't want to live in a world without you. If you'll have me?"

"I don't deserve you."

"You deserve everything," Shiro speaks softly marvelling at he way his breath ruffles Keith's hair. "I've been so scared your match would show up one day and you'd move on. Forget me."

"Who could forget you?"

"Plenty of people have."

"But I'm your match? You're mine?"

"Yes." Shiro hugs him closer, more gently than the restraining hold of before, "But you always have a choice. You don't have to choose me."

"What about you?"

"I chose you from the moment we met."

“Shiro,” Keith turns in his embrace, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Shiro offers softly. “About me. About my life up until now. I just… I want whatever of yourself you’re willing to share with me.”

“You’re sure? Everything you’d be giving up,” Keith hesitates. “I’m just me.”

“I’m certain.” Shiro presses his forehead to Keith’s, “For a love I never thought I’d be able to have. I don’t feel I’m giving up anything. Gaining a lifetime with you is worth anything the universe could ask of me. You’re worth everything.”

“This seems impossible,” Keith whispers. “I get to keep you.”

Shiro chuckles, “That’s my line.”

“You two all settled then?”

They look up together, finding Coran grinning at them while holding the intimidating red bow and a quiver full of arrows.

“I am,” Shiro squeezes Keith against him.

“We are,” Keith assured.

“Congratulations, lovebirds,” Coran laughs, slowly disappearing before their eyes. “Remember to invite me to the wedding, my boy.”

Keith looks back to Shiro, “Just who was that?”

“Coran, the King of the Gods,” He releases a nervous laugh. “Please never anger him.”

“Did I?”

“No. He’s kind, but still, every god has limits, and I’d like to keep you for a long time.”

“We should discuss that,” Keith murmurs. “Where we go from this.”

“We should,” Shiro agrees. “I’m thinking of adopting a dog.”

“Shiro! You don’t mean—”

“I know I’m here for the long haul now, and I think we know a pup that needs a forever home.”

Keith pulls him down for a kiss, laughing as they part, “You just want me to stay over more often.”

“It’s a bonus, but I do like Kosmo too.”

“His name is not Kosmo.”

“Oh, you asked him?”

“Did you?”

“What if I did?”

“Liar!”

“Your liar.”

“Yeah. Mine,” Shiro could have melted at the fond smile that graced Keith’s face.


End file.
